by Melissa Marr
When he glanced over at her, he saw her through his changed vision. Tiny moonlit chains like silver filigree stretched between them in a net that wasn’t visible to him when they were in Faerie. He reached for the net. “What is this?”
He could touch it; even as he realized it wasn’t tangible, it felt weighty in his hand like chain mail, heavier than it looked.
“No one else will see it.” She caught his free hand in hers. “It’s us. You’re of me, as if I’d borne you myself. You share my blood. It means you’ll see things, know things…I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“‘See things’?” He looked beyond her to the white sand beach where they stood. He didn’t think it was seeing. He felt things: crabs scuttling in the sand, seagulls and terns’ feet touching the earth. Absently, he walked toward the edge of the sea. As the water brushed his feet, he felt the life teeming in that water—animal and faery. Selchies mated somewhere to the east. A merrow argued with her father.
Seth concentrated on not-feeling it, not knowing.
“It’s not seeing,” he told Sorcha. “I feel the world. It’s like the whole time I thought I was alive, I was really barely conscious.”
“That is faery. More so because you are mine. The Hounds create fear. Gancanaghs create lust. That’s what they feel.” She led Seth away from the water to a bit of worn rock. “You’ll feel all that and other things too. A few of us can feel all of it, but some things will be stronger. Niall feels lusts and fears more truly. You’ll feel rightness, logical choices, pure reason.”
Seth sat beside her on the rocky outcrop and waited.
“The seeing part is different.” Her gaze was wary, but her voice was unwavering. “My sister and I have far-seeing. She chooses to see the threads to pluck to create disorder. I choose to focus on the inverse. But they are all only possibilities and connections. You must remind yourself of that.”
“Because I’m yours.” He hadn’t thought about any traits beyond longevity and strength when he sought this bargain. “This is all different because I’m your son.”
“Yes. You will have some…differences from other faeries.” She squeezed his hand in hers. “But when the seeing becomes too much, you will have time to be not-this within Faerie. You can return to me anytime and enjoy being mortal; you can escape from being a faery, from being of my blood.”
“What all will I…I mean, what other changes…” He struggled to make sense of this added gift—curse—as he struggled too to make sense of the flood of information from the world around him. “I see possibilities.”
She held tight to his hand when he thought to pull away. “Your own threads are less clear. It is only be others’ threads you see. It may be only sometimes. I don’t know how much of me you carry inside.”
He lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to block out everything but Sorcha’s words. The sensory differences dulled to a distant din, but silvered threads of knowledge stretched out like roads he could follow with his mind. He would Know things if he let himself—and he didn’t want to. Knowing without the power to change things was enough to make him feel unstable. He wanted to fix the conflict between the two merrows. He saw their threads. The girl was going to leave in anger. Her father would mourn because her death was likely after she left.
“How do you endure this?” he whispered.
“I change what I can, and I accept that I am not omnipotent.” She stood before him and looked at him intently. “If you weren’t able to be this, I wouldn’t have chosen you. I can’t see what you’ll do now; too much of my essence lives in you. I know, however, that you are quite capable of anything you want to be. You are someone who will slay dragons, who will do feats worthy of ballads.”
Seth realized that the gift Sorcha had given him was so much larger than he’d guessed. He had a purpose, a true purpose, out here as well as in Faerie. In Faerie, he created art for his queen mother; in the mortal world, he knew the things that could be set right. He could be her hand of order in this world if he had the skills to do so. “I don’t know how to fight or politics or anything….”
“Who are your friends?” she prompted.
“Ash, Niall…” He smiled as understanding dawned. “Niall knows how to fight. Gabriel and Chela are all about fighting. Donia knows all about politics. So does Niall. And Ash. So do the Summer Court guards…I can learn part of what I need from all three courts.”
“All four courts,” Sorcha added. “But you don’t have to do those things. You don’t have to become a hero, Seth. You could stay in Faerie, create art, walk with me and talk. I will bring us poets and musicians, philosophers and—”
“I will. Every year I’ll come home to you…but this”—he kissed her cheek—“is my world too. I can make things better for the people I love. For you. For Ash. For Niall. I can make both worlds safer.”
They sat silently for a few moments. Seth thought about the merrows who quarreled under the water.
“If the kelp strands were snarled as if by a storm, woven too tightly for the daughter to leave—” He stopped as that very thing happened. The merrow daughter was frustrated, but she turned back to her home.
Before he could comment, Sorcha pulled him to her in a quick embrace and said, “I need to leave. Go to your Aislinn. Find your place, and if you need me…”
“I do need you,” he assured her.
“Call, and I’ll be here.” She gave him a look that was one he’d seen often on his father’s face when he was younger—worry and hope. “Or you can come to me. Anytime. Devlin will assure your safety as well…and Niall…and…”
“I know.” He kissed her cheek. “I remember all the instructions you gave me.”
She sighed. “There’s no stalling it, is there?”
With a small gesture, she bent space to open a doorway into the park across from Aislinn’s loft. Sorcha was silent as Seth crossed the veil into the park.
He’d had the Sight before, so seeing the faeries who loitered in the park was not surprising. Aobheall was shimmering in her fountain; she paused as Seth appeared before her. Rowan guards stared at him. Summer Girls stopped mid-dance.
“Well, aren’t you unexpected?” Aobheall murmured. The water around her froze, droplets held in the air like tiny crystals.
Seth stood, speechless as the differences in perception assailed him. Aobheall’s voice was unchanged, but the pull to reach out to her was gone. There was no charm in his hand. Reality was different. He was different. The earth breathed around him, and he could feel it. The sighs of trees were a music that wove among the seeming silence of no one speaking to him.
“You are like us,” Tracey whispered. “Not mortal.”
She walked toward him with a sad expression that was common for her, but as far as Seth saw it, not warranted by the circumstances. Tears filled her eyes. She hugged him. “What have you done?”
For the first time since he’d met any of the Summer Girls, Seth was not affected by her touch. He didn’t feel the temptation to hold her longer or feel the fear of her injuring him in her forgetfulness.
He released her. “I’ve changed.”
Skelley took Tracey in his arms and held on to her as she began to sob. Other Summer Girls wept silently.
“This is a good thing.” Seth felt stronger, more alive, and sure of his choices. “It’s what I want.”
“So did they,” Skelley said. “That’s why they weep. They remember making that same foolish sacrifice.”
Aobheall didn’t frown or weep. She blew him a watery kiss. “Go see our queen, Seth, but know that life as a faery isn’t as kind as you thought. She had to do what was best for her court.”
The pressure in Seth’s chest, the fears of what else had changed, grew. He hadn’t felt that unease so strongly when he was in Faerie with Sorcha. There, he had calm. There, he had certainty. Now, he was walking into his beloved’s home, hoping that what he’d built with her was still strong enough to be saved.
He didn’
t speak to the guards he passed; he didn’t knock. He opened the door and walked into the loft. She was there. Her cheekbones were more obvious, as if she’d lost a bit too much weight, and she sat much closer to Keenan than she had before. She was smiling, though, looking at Keenan, who was midsentence.
Everything stopped as Seth came into the room. Keenan didn’t move away from Aislinn, but his words and gestures stilled. Aislinn’s smile vanished, replaced with a look somewhere between amazed and unsure. “Seth?”
“Hey.” He hadn’t been so nervous in months. “I’m back.”
There were so many emotions racing through her expressions that he was afraid to move, but then she was across the room and in his arms, wrapped in his embrace, and in that moment everything was right in the world. She was crying and holding on to him.
Keenan stood, but he didn’t cross the room. He looked furious. Small eddies of wind lifted around the room. Sand bit Seth’s skin. “You’re not mortal anymore,” Keenan said.
“No, I’m not,” Seth acknowledged.
Aislinn pulled back and looked at Seth. She didn’t let go of his arm, but she stepped back. “What did you do?”
“I found an answer.” Seth pulled her closer and whispered, “I missed you.”
Keenan didn’t say another word; he was almost mechanical in his movements as he walked past them and out the door.
Aislinn tensed as he passed, and for a moment, Seth wasn’t sure if she was going to go after Keenan or stay with him. “Keenan? Wait!”
But the Summer King was already gone.
Donia knew it was him when he knocked at her door. Her spies had told her that Seth had returned to the mortal world as a faery. Keenan’s arrival was inevitable.
“You knew where he was.” She needed to hear it. They’d spent too long with half-truths. The time for such tolerances was past. “You knew Seth was in Faerie.”
“I did,” he admitted. He stood just inside her doorway and looked at her with the same summer-perfect eyes that she had dreamed of for most of her life and silently asked her to forgive him, to tell him something to make it all right.
She couldn’t. “Ash is going to find out.”
“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”
“With her?” Donia stayed at a distance, not touching him, not approaching. It was what she had to do. He’d given her words of love and then abandoned her to romance Aislinn. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still hurt. Now he’d come seeking comfort. “Yes.”
“And with you?” he asked.
She looked away. Sometimes love wasn’t enough. “I think so.”
“So I am left—” he broke off. “I’ve ruined everything, Don. My queen is going to…I’ve no idea what this will do to my court. I’ve lost you. Niall hates me…and Sorcha cares for Seth, the mortal—the faery I…” He looked at her. The sunlight that usually shone so brightly when he was upset had all but faded from him. “What am I going to do?”
He sunk to the floor.
“Hope that some of us are kinder to you than you’ve been to us,” she whispered. Then, before she could soften again, she walked away and left the Summer King kneeling in her foyer.
Chapter 33
As her fey started filtering into the room, stealing glimpses of Seth and whispering things she didn’t want to hear, Aislinn led Seth to her room and closed the door. It was the only room in the loft that was just hers, so it was the only place she could think without feeling like she was in their space. The loft was their home now. It had changed. She had changed.
Seth sat on her bed and watched her, patient as he’d always been. He’d changed too, not just what he was, but who he was.
The words wouldn’t come. She’d thought them, spoken them to him in scenarios she played out in her mind, whispered them in the dark as if he could hear her. Now, they weren’t there. She wanted to tell him she hated that he’d left her, that she was devastated that Niall had known where he was but she hadn’t, that she’d thought she’d never be whole again, that she’d never love anyone else the way she loved him, that it hurt to breathe when he was away. She didn’t know how to say any of that, not now, but there was something she had to tell him. “Keenan and I are…were…dating.”
Seth crossed his arms over his chest. “Which means?”
“It means I told him he could try to make me…love him. That I was willing to give us a chance….” She hated that he was looking at her like she was the one who’d messed everything up. He’d left her. He’d stayed away. He hadn’t even called. She flopped down on the bed. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Have faith in us?”
“You vanished without any explanation and were gone for six months….” She tucked her feet up under her. “I thought you weren’t coming back. You left me without a word…after refusing to talk to me.” She wasn’t sure if it was temper or sorrow that was welling up inside of her. “You vanished.”
“How long?” he asked.
“What?”
“Until you were with him? How long did he wait, Ash?”
She had never been truly angry with him, not once, but right then she would’ve gladly struck him. After six months of being worried and hurt and afraid, she finally felt the anger she hadn’t allowed herself before.
“You left me.” The words were bitten off.
“I had a chance to get to the faery who could give me forever with you. The timing sucked, but—” Seth stopped. “I didn’t know I’d be gone so long. I’m sorry it happened that way. I saw a chance. I took it.”
“I waited. We sent faeries to look for you. I tried to talk to Niall…to Bananach. I waited for six months.” She clasped her hands together to keep from gesturing.
They’d never had a fight; they’d never had a reason for one either.
She looked down at her hands until her temper stilled. “I thought you had abandoned me. Niall said—”
“The Dark King who’s pissed at you told you something that made you doubt me, and you believed him.” Seth crooked his brow.
“There was a girl in the background…in the voice mail…”
“Bananach. War. She took me to—”
“You left with Bananach? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking it was worth the risk if it meant forever with my faery girlfriend.” He spoke very softly. “I was thinking that being with you was worth the risk. She took me to Sorcha, and I made a deal so I could be in your world the whole way, so I’d be strong enough to not need guards and babysitters, so I’d be able to be around for you forever.”
“And the cost?” She was afraid. She was a faery—and apparently he was too, now—but faery bargains weren’t renowned for their fairness.
“A month with Sorcha every year.”
“You were gone six months.”
“I was with her for a month. In Faerie.” He looked at her with a plea to understand, to agree that he didn’t make a mistake. “Niall told me she was the one who could make me this. No one else was willing to help. It was only thirty days for me. I didn’t know that it was longer for you.”
“So every year…” she prompted.
“I leave for what feels like a month to me and six months to you.”
“For the rest of your life.”
He nodded.
She tried to make sense of his being gone, of his being around for eternity. It didn’t make sense yet. He was hers, but at what price? Her heart raced as she thought about what he’d sacrificed. “And when you’re there, is it awful?”
“No. It’s almost perfect. The only thing that kept it from perfection was that you weren’t with me.” He looked enthralled as he spoke. “Faerie is incredible, and my only task is to create…and that’s it. I walk in the gardens. I think. I create. It’s amazing there.”
“And…Sorcha?”
The expression on his face was one of tenderness and of longing. “She’s perfection too. She is kind and gentle and wise and funny although she doesn’t admit
it….”
“Oh.” Her stomach twisted. He found eternity, but he’d found a queen as well. Aislinn wanted to not feel jealous, but she’d be worried for months and he’d been off falling for another faery queen. “So when you’re there, you’re with—”
“No. It’s not like that at all.” He scowled. “She’s my queen, my patron, a muse. It’s like having a family, Ash. She’s the mother I never…not that Linda doesn’t love me…but Sorcha is…she’s perfect.”
They sat there silently for a while until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “So now what?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. We figure out how to make it okay?”
But it was very much not okay. He’d risked it all to find forever with her, and she’d had so little faith in what they shared that she’d fallen into Keenan’s arms.
It’s where she was headed already.
He looked at her and admitted to himself that maybe it wasn’t his mortality that had stood in the way, but someone else. As long as she was the Summer Queen, she’d be with Keenan. They’d have their revelry and their meetings and their late-night arguments.
And I just destined myself to watch them do this for decades, for centuries.
“Did you sleep with him?” He waited, needing to hear her say it, needing to know.
“I thought you were gone, and I didn’t want to love anyone else…and he’s my friend…and I care about him and—”
“So that’s a yes?” His heart sounded like it was thundering in his ears.
“No…He turned me down.” She looked like she was going to start weeping. “I just wanted to stop hurting. I felt empty, and the court was weakening from my…wallowing.”
“I love you.” He pulled her to him and kissed her the way he had dreamed of when they were apart. She didn’t resist at all. It was almost like it had been before, but how it was before wasn’t good enough anymore. He’d been patient. He’d been willing to not feel jealous of Keenan because he’d believed that Keenan would be around to love her after he had died.